The Key To Enlightenment

The Key
To Enlightenment

The Old Phone Rings but nobody is there to answer.

Happy birthday Santa, have an Easter egg for thanksgiving dessert just before we go for a night of trick or treating.

Balloons rise up like bread in a womb of a nuclear storm that rains down upon the social soldiers living in a house of illusion that plays like a crack on a black vinyl record.

Gold turns to iron and the weight of sin bleeds heavily, leaving a feeling of famine deep in the stomachs of the soul.

Break free from the tomb of lucid dismemberment as fragile particles split and multiply the reinforcement of scientific believe.

Don't be part of the holy baloney that supports the parties on the balcony of vomit-ocrisy

Your pillow is to rest a head full of forgiveness that has lived a day of goodness

Sit on a chair with 3 legs as the forbidden actions of a woman begs for the comfort of silk and down feathers.

Rusty hinges creak loudly that swing open the door to Jesus. Grace is upon you; wipe the sweat from your heart: light the fire of forgiveness: the silence of the whisper, lingers in the air that waits to be inhaled by the lungs of your true self.

Poetry is the key to enlightenment.

Written By: Michael K. Englmann

On the 
Twenty Sixth Day

 Of The Tenth Month

In the Year Two Thousand And Fourteen

AKA: BigBang / BlueSkyIgniter

iambigbang.blogspot.com

michaelenglmann@shaw.ca

Doubt

Doubt

If "Doubt" tries to creep into the forest of your mind, It will hide in the shadows, hoping not to be detected as it smears its filth on your dreams and hopes. Unfortunately, "Doubt" will always fall prey if you have early warning detection devices in place, called Self Awareness. The tributes of your mind need to be connected and in harmony with one another, lending way to an open and free flowing environment. It needs to be perfect for supporting actions with good intent and an unbroken circle of trusting communication throughout. If all of this is in place then pure droplets of nourishing condensation forms on all surfaces. In this kind of perpetually growing culture, diversity shapes the landscape. Warmth will forever radiate out in the from of free flowing rivers of universal energy.

Written By: Michael K. Englmann

On the Seventh Day

 Of The Tenth Month

In the Year Two Thousand And Fourteen

AKA: BigBang / BlueSkyIgniter

iambigbang.blogspot.com

michaelenglmann@shaw.ca

Simpler Days

Simpler Days

Simpler days
-- Out with the old ways, In with the new
-- He awakes
-- Sipping on a fresh cup of brew
-- A guys gotta do what a guys gotta do.
-- His brain is baked
-- He gets dressed and arrives to work a little late
-- He tries to live a good life of give and take
-- How much is to much
-- Did he get to little
-- He begins to think that life is a riddle...........
                                                                           he gazes upon the Busker playing his fiddle.
-- Another cup of Joe
-- He drinks it on the go
-- No time for him again.
-- How long can this routine sustain................
                                                                          before his bough breaks again
-- Regrets, he's had a few
-- The dust from the busy city
                                                            Haa.......
                                                                   Haaaaa.......
                                                                                Haaaaaaaa.....
                                                                                                  Cheeewwwwww !!!!!



-- Simpler Days..............
                                       Ahh those Simpler Days

Written By: Michael K. Englmann

On the Twentieth Day

 Of The Eighth Month

In the Year Two Thousand And Fourteen

AKA: BigBang / BlueSkyIgniter

iambigbang.blogspot.com

michaelenglmann@shaw.ca

Struggle No More

Struggle No More

4 legs and a shoe lace made of leather.
I don't recognize this song.
Itchy eyes and a heavy head.
I'm glad for the ink in my pen.
A greeting  from a face I know.
And a hot cup of Joe.

I feel a cool breeze.

My heart is full.

The sense of security now comes from knowing who I am. 

It's as good as it's going to get thus far in this moment.

The best is yet to come.

Whether long or short be the road.

The Sun will shine on.

The rain will wet the land and the dark will hide the things I don't want to see.

A refill is at hand.

Thank God for supply and demand.

But how will the toothless man consume his mountain of spoils.

The power of repetition delivers a constant stream that avalanches down.

Behind their smiles is a dark and bitter frown and a self appointed crown.

In the midst of confusion; is hope; is a seed; is a promise.

If you will.

That waits to heal when the dust settles.

Dot...dot...dot...-Hmmmm

Put the arms down.

Pick up the fellow who's fallen.

Put love back on the menu.

Work we must

But Struggle no more

Struggle no more



Written By: Michael K. Englmann

On the Seventh Day

 Of The Tenth Month

In the Year Two Thousand And Fourteen

AKA: BigBang / BlueSkyIgniter

iambigbang.blogspot.com

michaelenglmann@shaw.ca

That One Fine Day...

That One Fine Day...

Many colorful characters come and go

Some are high and some are low

Mother reaches out to them all

The hair on their necks stand tall

Winter's on its way

But still they bang their heads upon that invisible wall

Towering between them and that one fine day.

They have lots to say

And yet, fail to listen to her pleading wisdom,

That has stood the test of time,

Well-before, they where taught to pray

Poets write about it

Artists paint about it

And Story tellers hide the truth between the lines

Entertained are thee

But few will ever pay heed to the signs

A blade of grass will always be  blade of grass

My Dad once said

And the Devil will continue to dance, as long as he is fed

In this world, the hate will stay

Until, along comes, that one fine day,

When the axis of their souls does tilt,

Bringing an end to all War,

Busyness, Stress, fear and guilt

Then they'll struggle no more

From their hearts, a Light will shine bright

Giving their soul the gift of sight

Hate will turn to Love and Kindness

Fear will transform into True Freedom and Happiness

The World will never be the same

On

That One Fine Day...

Written By: Michael K. Englmann

On the Eighth Day

 Of The Tenth Month

In the Year Two Thousand And Fourteen

AKA: BigBang / BlueSkyIgniter

iambigbang.blogspot.com

michaelenglmann@shaw.ca